


Of loneliness and healing (JohnDave Merstuck)

by Mithril_pike



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Depressed John, Depression, Emotional, Homestuck - Freeform, JohnxDave - Freeform, M/M, Mermaidstuck, Merstuck, Minor Character Death, Minor John Egbert/Vriska Serket, PTSD, Pepsicola, Romance, Sadstuck, Smut, bro is poor, butler Jake English, dave gets sent to the lalonds, dave is anxious and lonely and needs john but shhhhhh he won't admit it, john helps dave get over his hidden problems, johndave - Freeform, lonely dave, mermaid John, needing each other, past vriska/john, poor Dave, switching POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7950910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithril_pike/pseuds/Mithril_pike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Striders have officially run out of money. Bro's "work" is no longer enough to support both him and Dave. Luckily, Bro is able to use his meager relations to the prestigious (and well off) Lalonde family. They agree to take in Dave while Bro sorts things out, despite Dave's wishes to help the financial situation, not to run away like a pussy. Soon, Dave arrives on the shores of The Achmelvich Beach, presently owned by the Lalondes. During the tour of their estate, Dave falls off the edge of their private pier during high tide! Living in Texas most of his life, Dave never learned to swim. As the currents pull him this way and that, he feels a pair of arms wrap around him and direct him to shore. Afterwards, all he remembers is a flash of jet black hair, and a shimmer of blue scales in the murky waters. </p>
<p>(merstuck johndave fan fiction.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of money problems and changes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annamaria](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Annamaria).



> Hello. My name is Eclaircissement, and this is the first of my works to be published on A03. Welcome! I have much planned for this fic, if you would only give it a chance. 
> 
> NOTE: I have changed the tense last-minute. Sorry if this is an inconvenience- I just think the story will flow better as more of 2'nd person present tense than what I had it before. Nothing else has changed. The second chapter will be updated soon.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you cannot fucking believe this. As of this moment, you are on a one-way plane trip to Achel-something-or-other in order to stay with some distant relative that you had never heard of until Bro had hit you hard with the news.

He had cornered you in the kitchen, smuppet in one hand and that god-forsaken puppet Cal in the other.

"Sit," he had said, then motioning to the card table that rested on the kitchen's broken tile floor. You had sat, not feeling like arguing at that particular moment in time. As always, you had expected an invitation (order more like) to strife, or something else relating to bro's "work". Never in a million fucking years would you have expected what was about to go down. Bro had opened his mouth and then closed it, as if not fully knowing what he was going to say. Finally, he had cleared his throat.

" 'Lil bro, there's something, something we have to talk about..." At that you had raised an eyebrow, but stayed quiet. "As you know, my work is not necessarily the most well-paying of all jobs. So... Well, as it is, I..." He had trailed off, turning his head away from you. Now, even if you didn't show it, you were starting to get worried. Bro never lost his composure, never.

"What I'm trying to say is that, well... I can't fucking support both of us anymore. I'm... I'm sending you to Achmelvich. It's a beach in Ireland. You have relatives there, the Lalondes. They've agreed to take you in until this... business is sorted out." Your eyes had begun to widen behind your shades, and you had realized to late that your mouth had opened in shock as you processed was Bro was saying. You had stood as a wave of emotions drowned you.

"Bro! How could you?! I can't... No! I won't leave over something like this!" You had yelled, momentarily forgetting about your "cool" composure. You had seen Bro waver in his own composure, but his face had soon hardened once more.

"Whatever," you had breathed as you left him at the card table, alone.

Now you sit, glaring at the fluffy clouds with searing contempt. Suddenly, the music you had blaring into your ears via headphones stopped. You pull out your phone and scowl at the "input charger" graphic that is displayed on the otherwise black screen. Pulling out the ear buds, you resign yourself to staring out the window, muttering curses as you fly to Ireland.

You have arrived. After looking around, you catch sight of a man waving at you out of the corner of your eye. You walk over casually. As you arrive, he begins to smile. Once you are directly in front of him, he begins to speak.

"Are You Dave, Dave Strider?" His accent is heavy and you can literally see it dripping from his voice. You nod in reply to his question. He sighs, visibly relieved to have been correct with your identification.

"My name is Jake English- I work for the Lalondes. They asked me to fetch ya." Fan-fucking-tastic. So rich, they couldn't even be bothered to pick you up themselves.

"Great," you say, sarcasm imbedded within your voice. He smiles at you gently and then begins to walk towards the airport's exit. You could see the pity in his eyes. You shoulder you bags and follow him.

He leads you out to the parking lot. Opening your door first, he then settles himself into the Lalonde's family car, a beautiful silver Impala. You smile at the car; it's one of your favorite models, and clamber into the back seat. As he drives, English remarks that it's about a two-hour drive to Achmelvich, and that you had better get comfortable.

Finally, after an agonizing two hours of small talk with English and awkward silences, he pulls into the driveway of the Lalonde estate. Its size astounds you: three floors from what you can tell. Having never set foot in a house bigger than your own, you struggle to keep your surprise hidden. You can hear English smirk from where you sit. You glare at him. He stops the car and gets out, opening your door before you can protest. You step out of the Impala and shoulder your bags once again. He shuts the car door and heads toward the estate. You follow.

“It’s bigger on the inside…” you whisper as you step into the beautiful foyer.

“What’da say mate?” You shook your head, signaling him to drop it.

“Ahem,” you hear a small cough coming from the staircase in front of you. Looking up, you see a woman whose blond hair curls in towards her slim face.

“Dave! You’re here,” she says smiling and descending down the magnificent staircase. “My name is Roxy, I’m your aunt. Welcome to my humble abode,” by now you noticed her slightly slurred words. _Drunk?_ You guess, before a different voice interrupts your thoughts.

“It’s great to have you. So, we have two guest rooms, one upstairs and one on the ground floor, just around the corner. Which would you prefer?” You look up, startled, to see a younger girl, the same blond hair framing her ashy face. A headband made of black velvet contrasts with the bright color. She notices your confusion and introduces herself as Rose Lalonde.

“Now, I would like the answer to my previous question. Up, or down?”

“Down,” you reply. She smiles at you slightly, before motioning for you to follow her. You do. She leads you to a room at the end of the hall to your left. It is a smaller room, with two twin size beds on either side and a window facing the ocean. A dresser rests next to the door. You place your black duffle bags on one of the beds and turn to leave the room.

You find the Lalondes in their dining room. Roxy is in the kitchen, swaying to some song on the radio. Rose sits at the large wooden table, reading a book thicker than any you’ve ever seen. You glance around, unsure of what to do. On your third sweep of the room, Rose looks up and catches your eye.

“Roxy, don’t you think we should show Dave around the estate? I’m sure that would be quite helpful, don’t you think?” Rose asks, but Roxy either doesn’t hear her, or chooses to ignore her. She clears her throat, irritated, and repeats the question, a bit louder this time around. Roxy turns down the music.

“What’da say again, Rose darling?” Roxy asks, by this time clearly wanting to aggravate Rose. Rose draws a breath and repeats herself for a third and final time.

“Oh! Great idea Rose darling! By the time we return, dinner should be done. What do ya say, Dave? How about a grand tour of the Lalonde estate?”

“Uhhhh,” You take a step back, secretly intimidated by the amount of pure fucking tension between the two Lalondes.

“Ya’ll don’t need to go through all that shit for me, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh nonsense!” Roxy says as she leads you out of the kitchen. “It won’t take long and I would feel better if you knew the place before living here.” And that was final. Both Roxy and Rose lead you throughout the house, showing you the mass of rooms. They had everything from a full size library (Rose’s idea) and a private theater (Roxy’s pride and joy.)

Finally, they lead you outside, showing you the pool and bringing you out to the pier. A silent wind follows you as you walk on the slightly uneven boards of the old pier. Water laps against the sandy shore. The moon’s light reflects off the dark, almost back, ocean. You watch as Rose leans against the wooden railing, face upturned toward the full moon.

“Well, shit…” You murmur under your breath, smirking at the scene; you had not expected to be impressed by anything. In the city, nights had never been this beautiful. You didn’t know they could be this cool.

Something catches your eye in the waves to your right. You turn, and before you know it, you are in the air, falling from the pier! Living in Texas for most of your life, you had never thought it important to learn how to swim. Now, as you plunge into the icy water, swimming quickly becomes a top priority. The tide is at its peak. Currents pull you this way and that. Bubbles escape your mouth and water rushes your lungs. Just as the world fades into dark, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your body, lifting you up and out of the water.


	2. Of drownings and nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is meant to be a rather short chapter, just preparing for the next few Dave scenes. Enjoy!

“Dave!” Shooting up, you cough as water escapes your aching lungs. Rose’s hand is on your shoulder, and her eyes are filled with fear. You look at her, eyes still adjusting to the air. “Are you alright?!” She asks, while looking at your shivering pathetic form. You push her hand away, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m fine,” You say as you begin to stand. The world tilts, but only slightly. You ignore it and continue to stagger towards the house, completely disregarding Rose’s hovering hands and Roxy’s muttering. _Fuck! That was so fucking uncool! How the hell am I going to live this down…_ The house appears in front of you. You reach out and open the door. Rose follows you through, and Roxy locks the door after she enters. Sinking into an armchair in some lounge to your right. Your eyes close as you drift off into the land of unicorns and rainbows.

Roxy is shaking your shoulders, saying something about shades. _Shades…? Oh shit!_ Her hands reach to grab your tinted lenses, and you pull back, covering your face with your hands.

“Dave! What the hell are you doing? I need to check your eyes; you could have hit your head while in the water!”

“Don’t. Touch. My. Shades.” You say, voice laced with a menacing tone. Her hands begin to draw back slowly. She takes a step back.

“Whatever you say…” she takes a few more steps back and turns around, walking away. You look up to see Rose leaning against a wall, arms crossed and eyes following your every move. She kicks off the wall, bids you goodnight, and tells you to inform either Roxy or herself if complications arise, as well as to leave your wet clothes in the laundry room. Then, she is gone. You stand and walk toward “your” room.

The door is already ajar; all you have to do is push it open. The moon’s light shines through, illuminating your bed. Now is the first time you notice that you are in fact soaking wet. You strip, leaving a wet mound of clothes on the floor, and change into a pair of plaid comfy pants.

You think of grabbing a shirt, but your foggy mind does not find it necessary. If you had been fully aware, you would have realized that it would have made the whole “I am freezing” situation much better. You clamber into the soft bed and fall asleep under the light of the full moon. The night’s sleep is restless- filled with nightmares of rushing water and bro’s worried face.

You wake up in a cold sweat for the third time that night. What was it this time? you wonder. You’ve never been able to remember dreams after you wake up. You can only remember the emotions of terror, or of bliss. Finally, you fall asleep after adding another blanket to your bed; borrowed from its neighbor.

This time, you make it until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and be sure to follow to see further chapters. John's story shall be revealed in the next. Now, carry on, my readers!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there is is, the first chapter of Of Loneliness and Healing. I hope you enjoyed, and would love to see you in the next installment, which should be uploaded soon.


End file.
